When The World Eater Wakes
by harleytje
Summary: Ma'hlia just wanted to travel and see more of the world outside of Elsweyr. Following what feels like fate she ends up in Skyrim, caught up in turmoil and danger, close to losing everything she cared about- including herself.
1. Prologue

The Solrhusra household was never calm.

We had a large family that never went very far since we had several buildings on our land. Moving out to start a family meant just moving some belongings to the building two minutes away and redecorating a little. My father had built many of the buildings with _his_ father and grandfather, and I knew it filled him with pride knowing my six siblings and I would live there and not stray too far.

So while we scattered across our lands for our own space, we often spent together. We would cook our meals on the fire pit outside and crowd round on low tables and mats on the ground to eat. It was busy and noisy, even more so since my two older sisters had married and given me nieces and nephews. There was always overlapping conversations and laughter, nearly always a baby to coo over or a child to coax into trying vegetables. We would often get distant relatives stopping by unannounced too. But they always brought stories to tell and spiced meats to cook.

And when the sun set and our bellies were full, the children would run off the last of their energy in the trees, grandmother would amuse us with small spells and my father would talk business or dole out words of wisdom. Until eventually we'd have to clear up and the little ones were carried off to bed.

Growing up in the large family was all I was used to, my father had four siblings and loved the idea of having a house full of his own children. I grew up surrounded by people, my earliest memories were of curling up to sleep in one big bed with my older sisters and my mother, before she passed. And when she died and we mourned her, there was always someone there to hold me or wipe away my tears. My father eventually remarried. I went from three siblings to six and as my sisters grew older I gained a brother and a sister through marriage.

So there were always younger siblings or nieces and nephews to help out with; chores around the land to be done and my seamstress work for the nearby village. There was very little alone time in our family, which had never bothered me for the first 22 years of my life but something had changed.

I ignored it at first, the little niggling feeling in my gut. It was the same kind of feeling I got right before I realized I was running late for an errand or when I had managed to get myself lost on a new path. It was the feeling of being in the wrong place and it didn't matter whether I was visiting a nearby moon sugar plantation, painting in the meadow, reading the children stories by the fire- the feeling didn't shift. At night it was even worse. I would toss and turn, hovering between sleep and waking. I would have dreams of places I had never seen before. My sketchpads filled up with half remembered scenery that was so unlike the Elsweyr forests or instead it was blurred faces of people who looked so strange compared to my Khajiit family and friends.

I didn't know what any of it meant. So I tried to keep it buried it deep inside me and hoped it would pass.

It didn't work. I'd find myself drifting into thought while I got dressed about what clothes would fit in my bags if I traveled. I turned down a date with the Ohmes boy I'd had a crush on for as long as I could remember because it suddenly felt wrong. My family would constantly be snapping me out of a daze and tut at me while I stammered excuses- not wanting to tell them that for a moment the trees had vanished and rising mountains replaced them, seeming to call out to me.

Several months passed in that fashion. It wasn't until a week after my 23rd birthday that something really changed, all thanks to another dream. This one wasn't hazy visions of mountains and a cold, blue sky. It barely felt like a dream at all.

I was standing in an empty stone room, with intricate and beautiful carvings all on the walls. I knew I was dreaming yet I didn't wake, instead I got to pace the room, running my hands along the marks on the wall. There was writing that I couldn't read and figures holding weapons against a range of creatures. Some of the pictures reminded me of the ones I saw in books, historic ones that spoke about the Oblivion crisis. Others hosted different creatures, ones crawling out of the ground or flying above buildings.

" _I see you have discovered your history, Ma'hlia._ "

The voice startled me and I whipped round, but there was nobody else in the room with me. I stared hard into the shadowy corners but nothing appeared. My heart hammered and I tried chanting internally to myself to wake up.

" _This isn't an ordinary dream, child. And there is no need for you to fear me. I am only here to guide you onto the path you know you must take. This is your history, your future, the destiny of your soul etched on stone. There's only so long you can deny what must come to pass._ "

The voice was calm and melodious, the kind of voice that put me at ease. It almost reminded me of my mother though it was impossible to determine the gender. Not when I was trying to make sense of what was being said.

"I... I don't understand how any of this has to do with me? I haven't gone to any battles or anything like that. I... Do you mean my ancestors or something?"

There was a faint sound, like rushing water or a gust of wind. It was otherwordly yet reminded me of the good-natured sighs my father would give before teaching us children something. But this... voice, whatever it was, carried an even more ancient and wise aura than anyone I knew. Whoever or whatever this voice belonged to, I somehow knew it was beyond mortality as I knew it.

" _No I do not mean your ancestors, not in the way you think of them at least. At pivotal points in history there have been chosen people who must do what is needed and are destined for a fate more than the one they expect. Those people are part of your history because you are one of them. They are part of you and you will need to remember their strength and carry it with you in the times ahead, Ma'hlia."_

I frowned, more than a little confused. This was more cryptic than when grandmother read my tea leaves with a twinkle in her eye.

"I don't understand what you mean. Who are you? What do you want from me?"

" _All will become clear in time._ "

I tried to say something but as quick as I could open my mouth I was suddenly snapping upright in bed.

I was cold and clammy with sweat, feeling as if I'd run a mile or so in my sleep. My eyes darted around the room as if I could locate that mysterious voice but all I could see was the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor and an old cobweb up in the corner of the ceiling. I sat staring at it for several long moments, my mind in turmoil as I replayed the dream in my head.

I wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, hopefully when the little ones came to wake me in the morning the dream would have faded from my mind and I could go about my day in peace. But I didn't pull the blanket back over me and instead I moved purely on instinct, pulling my warmest clothes out my wardrobe and packing them into father's old hunting pack.

When I was nearly done, sunlight was filtering through my small window. Clothes that didn't fit in my pack were neatly folded in piles so my wardrobe was bare and I had stripped my bed. Even my watercolors and charcoal drawings were taken down from the wall, my sketching tools tucked away safely in my pack with my clothes. I was about to slip downstairs to organize rations and waterskins or canteens.

But I could hear the house waking up and before I could go anywhere there was a flurry of footsteps and S'inji burst into my room with Reina on his back, both of them laughing.

S'inji had only been a baby really when our mother had died and although he had her eyes, he looked more like our step-mother, Zilaasi, than anyone else. He was 11 years older than Reina, the eldest of our half-siblings but they were thick as thieves. We all loved the little ones as much as each other, they were still family to us. But my older sisters and I still missed our mother so much- S'inji had little memory of her so had no problem with calling Zilaasi his mother and always hated when we called the younger kids 'half-siblings'.

"Time for breakfast, Ma'hlia! Mama is letting us go fishing today but we have to eat first!" Reina launched herself off S'inji's back- that girl had no fear- and into my arms in a flurry of fur and laughter. "Thenna is coming, but he said he's only coming if you come too and tell us stories! And you gotta bake something nice- ooh maybe you can make those tarts you made last time!"

I couldn't help but smile, Thenna trailing into the room too at the sound of his name. He was Reina's twin but while she was loud and rambunctious and forever talking, Thenna liked to sit and watch what was happening, only speaking after long consideration. He was like a miniature version of father, but with a bigger sweet tooth. And of course he was the one with the watchful eyes that actually noticed the changes in my room, moments before S'inji spotted it too.

I gently set Reina back on the floor as I watched the boys frowning at the packed bag and empty wardrobe. I said nothing as S'inji muttered something about getting an adult and darted out the room- what was I supposed to say to two seven year-old's that were suddenly staring up at me with mournful eyes?

"You're leaving," Thenna said it as a statement, not a question and with such a solemn little voice that Reina burst into noisy tears. Guilt overwhelmed me and I almost upturned my bag there and then to change my mind. What was I thinking? How could I leave the little ones- if the twins couldn't understand how could Rhusi, who was only four? Or my sisters' kids, five of them between the two of them and some barely walking and talking? They wouldn't even remember me by the time I got back.

I was dithering between comforting Reina and undoing my hard work when suddenly I had a concerned Zilaasi scooping both the twins into her arms, my father and grandmother behind her. Zilaasi had a hard look on her face, protective over her babies that I had inadvertently upset and my father looked so confused you'd think someone would have just told him that the trees had started walking and talking. Only my grandmother looked serene as always, coming over and taking my hand.

Her hands were course and calloused from her years of work, but always gentle when holding mine. These were the hands that bathed and clothed me as an infant, had combed my unruly curls as I grew, the hands that taught me how to repair a piece of clothing and stitch a hem. These were the hands that had given me the gift of my tattoos at 16, the stripes up my arms, legs and cheeks to mimic the pattern my mother's fur had carried. My grandmother was the one who did so much for all of us, especially all the times I had gone to her feeling isolated or worried. She would listen patiently, smooth back my hair and kiss my forehead and tell me everything would me okay.

I drew strength from her grip and swallowed, straightening up and meeting my father's curious gaze.

"I'm leaving. I… I want to travel and see all the different lands before I have my family. Like you did, father," I sent him a pleading look but his face was unreadable as he stared in silence. Zilaasi straightened and gave me a gentler look before ushering the twins back downstairs. "I have to do this. I can't explain why, it's like the stars and the moons whisper to me at night. It... It's my fate and I have to listen. I love being here and I love you all but I need this."

My grandmother squeezed my hand gently, I knew without looking at her that she was giving her seal of approval. I kept my eyes locked on my father- the one whose opinion mattered the most. He gazed back at me, no doubt seeing my mother in me as he often said he did. His expression as always was impossible to read and my stomach twisted as he opened his mouth to speak, to settle any arguments or to turn down my plans. If he disapproved, I knew I would be lost.

"I will help you pack."


	2. Arrest

Leaving my home behind and saying goodbye to my family was the hardest thing I had ever done. I was glad to be alone for the first few hours only because it meant nobody could see me break down in tears every few minutes and go to turn back. I never got more than a few steps back before my inner resolve hardened again and I kept moving.

My days became so different to anything else I'd experienced. I would plot my paths out on old maps and try and stick to smaller towns- just enough to rent a bed every now and then and top of my food supplies. Those were the few times I saw people again, meeting Pahmer soldiers that complimented my hair and Alfiq who couldn't speak but cast illumination spells for us to pore over the maps together. I learned what places to avoid, the quickest path North and even had one friendly Bosmer trade me some spell books in return for some baked goods I'd brought with me.

It was some company that broke up the isolated and monotonous walks I took through forest and jungle and even close to the desert areas. At times though I found myself longing to have the little ones around begging me to tell them a story, or to have my grandmother chat to me as I prepared a meager dinner over my campfire. I truly missed my nightly walks with my father the most, sometimes I'd find myself staring up at the stars and the pang of missing him would be so strong I could have sworn I could smell the smoke from his pipe.

But as time passed, I still mourned the loss of the company but I found myself no longer tearing up as I wrote in my journal of what I wanted to tell my family. I began to relish the peace and quiet of my wandering, especially as I left Elsweyr. I had time to explore the new terrain and the interesting architecture of Cyrodiil. With nobody else to please I could stop for two hours to sketch a single flower if I wanted to, and I often did. The meals I cooked were eaten with nobody fighting for a larger portion or a baby needing fed between bites. After two months, I enjoyed my solitude.

Travelling through Cyrodiil, however, was intimidating.

I knew this wasn't where I was meant to be, I still felt the pull to travel further North but I couldn't help being curious. People I stopped to chat to told me how the cities were former shells of their previous glory but I still marveled at the buildings and busy cities. Plenty of those in the towns and cities were curious about me too- asking slightly invasive questions about my appearance differing to other Khajiit they'd seen travel through.

At first I was patient, telling them the difference between the Cathay they were used to and Ohmes-raht like myself. I pointed out how I _did_ actually have fur, it was just so short that the areas it covered it was hard to tell. I explained how my markings were tattoos that were culturally significant back in my home and represented my coming of age back home.

After a few times though, I got tired of the long winded explanations and started to avoid people once again. I missed having my father around, his towering frame would have stopped any rude or abrupt questions.

I stuck close to the rivers and lakes as I traveled, finding fishing a lot easier than hunting or venturing into the busier places to buy things. My gold supply was starting to run a little low too and I was trying to be sensible with it. The last thing I wanted was to end up stranded somewhere, far from my goal. I still had yet to see the looming mountains from my dreams.

My maps were my constant companion. I'd trace how far I'd come and plot my future course, drawing my finger up until it hovered over the unknown towns in Skyrim. Just looking at it on the map made something click into place in my head. That was where I had to go first.

The weather was getting colder and colder the closer I got to the border though. I spent some of the last of my gold on a thick fur cloak to wrap around me and use as a blanket at night. Just listening to people describe the amount of snow that would fall up in the North made me shiver and regret swapping the warm weather of Elsweyr for a foreign country with what seemed like uninhabitable weather. But it still felt like something up in the stars and moons were guiding me. I put all my faith into them.

The mountains were difficult to travel through, but thankfully there were a few travelers native to Skyrim that were happy to point me in the right direction after I struggled for a couple of days. They even let me pitch my tent with them, just shy of the border and we crowded round the fire together while the tallest of the men, who introduced himself as Tulvar, prepared a fresh venison stew. The shorter one, who cheerfully told me they called him Hodlin the Stout, crouched over my map adding some places of interest for me.

"So what brings you to Skyrim then lass?" The woman of the group, Setta, asked, passing me a bottle of Ale. The accents were so different to back in Elsweyr and it took me a moment to process what she said and remember to answer in the right language.

"I wanted to travel, see beyond my family home," I took a swallow of Ale and paused, not wanting to explain my dreams or beliefs about faith. "It's such a different country from Elsweyr... I'm curious."

"You're comin' as everyone else wants to leave," Hodlin gave a barking laugh and handed me back my map. "Plenty to see and do if you want to be a soldier, but it's too miserable for us now. I want a nice bed and nicer company, not the constant shit stains talkin' about what side you're on and then threatenin' to gut you over your opinion."

Setta gave a barking laugh as I stared at them both, unsure on whether this was a joke or if things were seriously that bad. I stared at the markers Hodlin hard etched on my map, trying to work out where I was going and if it was possible to avoid the trouble they were talking about.

I tucked the map away as Tulvar announced the venison was ready and handed out the bowls of stew. We huddled closer round the fire as we ate in relative silence. The venison was tender and nice, but I missed the spices and flavourings from Elsweyr. Even some moon sugar would have made it a nice mixture of savory and sweet, but I supposed that would be less enjoyable or those who didn't have the tolerance for the substance. Even if it did taste a little bland compared to what I was used to, it was warm and filling and between us there were no leftovers.

We used melted snow and ice to rinse the bowls and I dragged my sleeping furs out the tent to listen to my new companions. Hodlin had drank more than a few bottles of Ale and sang a song about a man named Ragnar that made me laugh- though Setta shouted her disagreement throughout. Tulvar regarded the two's joking insults with a warm look. The three were obviously close, though they didn't look related. I was curious as to how they had ended up travelling together but I didn't feel I knew them well enough to pry. Instead, I sipped my own Ale and watched.

The way they interacted so warm and playful and familiar reminded me of my siblings and I smiled. I was warm, well-fed and had some company I enjoyed, it was hard not to be content. My eyes started to droop and I yawned. After a few moments Tulvar caught my eye and chuckled.

"You look tired, Ma'hlia. Are we keeping you up past your bed time?" He teased gently, reminding me of S'inji.

"Aye. It's getting late, lass," Setta glanced to the sky and huddled further under her own blanket. "Perhaps it's time we all went to sleep, we're travelling early tomorrow after all."

The men murmured their agreement and slowly we retreated to our separate tents. They had one much larger than mine, space enough for all three of them but I was glad of my own space when I heard Hodlin's snoring through the night. The embers of the fire gave enough warmth and I felt safer knowing there were people nearby, even if I may not have known them that well.

I slipped into an easy, dreamless sleep. When I woke to the sound of Setta and Tulvar laughing at something, I felt better rested than I had for weeks.

We packed up our supplies together, Tulvar slicing some bread I had shared and toasting it over the fire with apples and butter. I expected to miss the flavorings of home again but the apples were sweet and the cheese was creamy once it melted over the fire. I ended up having seconds, then thirds. My love for food meant I still carried the extra weight around my midsection, but it no longer bothered me.

"If you ever end up in the South of Elsweyr, look out for the Solrhusra farm. I'm sure my family would love to cook for you in return for your kindness," I gave the trio an impulsive hug. "They worried I wouldn't encounter any kindness from strangers."

"Well you can't get stranger than us," Setta laughed, giving me a tight squeeze in return.

"Just be careful of some of those strangers, especially in the bigger holds. Not everyone is welcoming to outsiders," Tulvar looked solemn and the other two shifted uncomfortably. "Look after yourself Ma'hlia. I have a good feeling about you. I'm sure we'll meet again."

I watched them leave, already missing the company as they disappeared from view. It had been fun to spend time with them. I sent up a silent prayer that Tulvar was right and we would meet again before turning and continuing on my way. The mountains loomed over me as a I went, a strange and a stark contrast to the jungle I was used to. Yet somehow it felt like I was where I belonged.

I stopped at a stream after a few hours, crouching down to fill up my canteen and letting my cloak fall around me and seal in the warmth. If I was following my map right then I had just crossed the border to Skyrim. I was excited to reach a town to sleep in a real bed again, especially with this cold weather. I had gotten used to sleeping alone, but I definitely hadn't gotten used to sleeping under a pile of furs and still being cold.

Taking several swallows from my canteen, I suppressed a shiver. The cold water was refreshing and I preferred it to the constantly tepid water in the balmy weather of home, but I would have preferred a nice hot tea. But I didn't want to slow down to light a fire to make one. I was determined to make it to the next town by sundown.

After topping my canteen back up and stowing it in the bag at my hip, I stood and stretched, cracking my back, and letting out a satisfied sigh. It was cold, but I pulled my cloak around me, adjusted the pack on my back and went back along the trail I'd been following.

I'd only been walking for a minute or so when I spotted the horse.

It was beautiful, piebald and easily taller than me. Little puffs of breath were visible in the cold weather and I couldn't help but step forward and reach out a hand. I'd taken a few carts in my travels so far but it had been a long time since I'd ridden a horse. The horse gave a soft snort before tucking its nose into my hand, snuffling to see if I had any treats.

I smiled, about to reach out another hand when my ears picked up the faint sound of metal clanging. The horse must have heard it too, shaking its head and starting to trot away. I, however, was nosier and ducked through the trees till I spotted a figure. He was jogging towards me, muttering under his breath. The only words I managed to pick up were 'damn horse' before an arrow suddenly shot by the two of us and embedded into the tree.

Yelping, I dropped to my knees as the horse guy picked up his speed and brushed right past me without so much as a glance. Another arrow whizzed by, only an inch or two above my head and I screeched, scrambling through the trees trying to find cover.

I broke through some underbrush and spotted a couple guys in armour, crossing swords. There was a few more in the distance with the archer on a crop of rocks. He didn't even seem to be aiming at me, just having his shots fly over the heads of his marks.

Hopping into a squat, I drew my short sword and pressed my back against the thick pine tree behind me. I didn't want to fight anyone- especially since my simple skirt and tunic would offer no protection. My cloak was thick for warmth but those muscular soldiers with their fancy swords would cut through it without breaking a sweat.

I was just about to try and slink away when a female soldier burst through the trees not far from me. Her eyes locked with mine. I shrank under her ferocious glare as she strode toward me.

"Another rebel, General!" She yelled and I glanced around me. I had no idea what she meant and wondered if maybe I was struggling to understand the accent.

She pointed her sword at me, nearly twice as long as mine and already blood stained. I dropped mine immediately and raised my hands, if I surrendered then she wouldn't use that sword on me- right?

I realised I was wrong as she just gave a twisted smile and kept advancing, brandishing that sword. I pressed further against the tree, my heart feeling like it was trying to launch out my chest and do her job by impaling itself on the sword for her.

" _Oh Alkosh save me…"_ I whimpered in Ta'agra, knowing fine well she wouldn't be able to understand me. I switched to Tamrielic, praying for a miracle. "Please, I am not a threat! Just wandering! I surrender! You can't hurt me!"

She gave no indication to hearing me, as if I was still speaking a foreign language. My hands were still up but she lashed out with her blade anyway, narrowly missing slicing my palms open. This was real- she wasn't going to hold back.

Swallowing down my fear I scrambled away, falling flat on my back without the tree to hold me up. I shuffled back, trying to flip onto my hands and knees quickly enough to get away. But then the solider showed her skill, launching forward, and kicking her boot into my stomach and driving me back onto the ground.

The pain of the heavy steel boots being driven into my gut was nearly bad enough to make me throw up and I collapsed back, trying to catch my breath. My father had taught me how to handle a sword but even in our sparring I'd never gotten a blow as fierce as that.

She lifted her sword again, aiming for my stomach. Instinctively I lashed back out and attempted to kick the sword away. Not the best idea but I didn't want to see my own guts spilled onto the cold ground.

I missed my kick and instead, the sharp steel bit into the plump flesh of my hip and dragged down my thigh.

I let out a strangled scream. The steel of the sword was cold but the wound immediately burned. My green skirt turned dark with blood and my eyes rolled back. I hadn't expected to die so far from home, so far from my family. At the hands of this anonymous soldier who didn't even know my name.

The soldier paused and regarded her work for a moment, looking at the wound through the slice she'd made in my skirt. Even though my leg was throbbing and the wound felt like fire, I knew I had to take this moment to get away. Whimpering, I flipped onto my hands and knees. Every movement was agony and I could feel myself close to blacking out. The blood was spilling onto the ground beneath me and the sight of it spurred me on. I didn't want to die here on this cold forest floor.

I made it maybe about a foot before I heard heavy footsteps approaching. The female soldier muttered something and there was a male chuckle. I moved to turn and look but before I could, something solid and heavy smacked the back of my head and my face smashed into the ground.

I just had a second to taste blood before the pain got the best of me and I blacked out.


	3. Unbound

"We're getting close to Helgen. Think we should wake her up?"

"No. If I could be the one to stay out cold for this I would."

"Face your end with some dignity, horse thief. Show the Gods you have some courage."

The noise filtered in slowly, first the chatter of male voices, then the sound of wind and horses pulling carts. The typical sounds I was used to from travelling from Elsweyr. Even the rocking of the ground I was sat on was familiar, letting me place where I was before I opened my eyes. The cold hit me next and I shivered, involuntarily and violently. I squinted on eye open, reluctantly lifting my head from my chest and wincing at how heavy it felt, aching more than the worst of hangovers. For a few moments, everything stayed blurry in the weak sunlight. I could make out figures sitting alongside me, confirming we were in a moving carriage, but I had no recollection of who they were.

My memory cleared as my sight did- remembering the ambush I got caught up in, the ruthless soldier and the wound on my leg that was now throbbing painfully as I returned to consciousness. I squinted at my skirt, torn and dark with blood, but I didn't dare shift position to take a look to assess the damage. I knew the most basic healing spell, more to deal with the pain than the actual damage, but I figured it was enough to tide me over.

I moved my hands over the rough area of the wound, then flinched when I spotted the rope tight around my wrists, forcing my palms clasped together. It made it impossible to try and untie it and stopped any flow of even the most basic of spells. Any naive hope of the carriage taking me to safety trickled away, replaced by a cold feeling of dread.

"I'm sure they'll return your remains back to Elsweyr, Khajiit."

I stared blankly at the speaker, a blonde soldier across the cart, in bindings just like mine. I had no idea if he meant the words to comfort me or not, I couldn't find anything to say back either way. They spoke of death and remains and their Gods and all I could do was stare at the trees and mountains as we passed into an unknown town.

There were a surprising amount of other soldiers, dressed in red instead of blue like the ones in the carts, and my feeling of dread grew stronger. I looked back down at my bindings, twisting and turning my wrists in desperation. The rope was rough and burned at my skin as I pulled but I didn't dare do it any gentler. Just another inch and -

"Hey, you! Cat!" I froze, suddenly aware that we had stopped and my temporary companions were making their way off the carriage and onto the cobbled street. A female soldier was standing to one side, pointing a short sword at me. I cringed back, recognizing her as the soldier who had attacked me before. "Off the cart, cat, or you'll be first to the block."

The block.

My heart clenched and I could taste bile at the back of my throat. I scrambled after the blonde who had spoken to me, trying desperately to keep my footing. My wound burned, shooting pain from my hip right down to my ankle, making it near impossible to keep my weight on it. I had to hold tightly to the side of the wooden cart to stop myself from collapsing to my knees with the pain.

The soldier gave me a hard shove forward, forcing me to let go of my support. I staggered forward, barely managing to keep upright and swallowing my cry of pain. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand on my own two feet for too long. But as I stared ahead I realized that would not matter for much longer.

The headsman's ax was sharp, glinting in the watery sunlight. It was all I could see. It was like when a fire broke out in dry season and you'd be unable to look away from the blaze even when you knew you should. But this was worse, much worse. Because when fires broke out back home we had a system of people to stop it. Buckets and pulleys pumping water from the rivers or smaller fires to burn the path before it spread too far. We had homes to return to, paper fans to wave away the smoke and cool water to drink to soothe our throats raw from smoke. Here I was surrounded by strangers in the same hopeless position as I was or soldiers that were happy to kill me without even bothering to question me. I knew that the people around me were talking- soldiers barking orders and prisoners snapping back at them- but there words washed over me, meaning nothing.

Under my breath I muttered a prayer from my childhood, a desperate prayer I used to mutter while hiding under blankets from the monsters that lived in the corners and under beds. It used to keep away the nightmares and this was the biggest nightmare I could imagine. I didn't want to die here in this foreign land without saying goodbye to my family. I had promised to write to them, to keep them up to date.

They were never going to hear from me again.

One of the bound soldiers in blue marched towards the block, a determined stride so unlike my shaking legs. He got to his knees, facing away from the crowd, and I swallowed hard. I was so aware of my heart, pounding in my ears hard enough to drown everything else out. The soldier was going to his death with dignity- I was going to watch him volunteer to be the first to die and I didn't even know his name.

My eyes snapped shut right as the headsman started to bring down his ax.

I didn't see it, but I heard it. The sound of an ax through flesh and bone and sinew before the thud of it hitting the wooden block. The crowd of other prisoners let out sighs and outcries but the people from the town who had come to watch let out scattered applause. Would they applaud like that for me?

My knees wobbled and I let out a low moan, unable to keep my eyes closed as I heard the sound of them dragging his body away. The blood was still spreading across the stones of the ground and I felt my stomach turn. Where was the nameless soldier's dignity now, as his headless corpse was dragged off with people watching and uncaring.

"The cat goes next!"

The world around me swam. For a moment I wondered if I was going to lose consciousness again. It would have been a mercy. But things righted again and the blood on the ground was back in sharp focus. The same soldier from before stepped to my side and stared me down, her eyes cold and hard. I wondered what had happened to her to cause her to hate me so much without even knowing me.

"Up to the block, or do I have to drag you?"

I was sure the crowd would have loved that, a half-hysterical Khajiit dragged kicking and screaming to her death. I took an unsteady step forward, the pain in my leg barely mattering now. Then I took another, still staring at the blood that I was close to kneeling down in. My own blood was rushing in my ears like a roar, drowning everything else out.

Another two steps. I was close enough to meet the headsman's gaze now, impossible to read. One more step. The block was below me and the blood was sticky at my feet. I forced myself not to close my eyes as I dropped to my knees, my entire body numb. My hands were shaking and I prayed nobody else could tell. The roaring was steady in my head now, like a scream desperate to get out. This was it. I was going to die.

" _Father, forgive me..._ "

The headsman adjusted his feet, I couldn't bring myself to look up at his ax. I waited for my last second on Nirn to end and hoped my ancestors were waiting for me.

Then the sky was darkened. Through the roaring in my head I heard someone scream the word 'dragon' and I lifted my gaze to stare at Oblivion soaring in with dark wings.

The beast- was it truly a dragon? It opened it's jaws and the ground shook beneath us, fire and stone raining from the sky. I fell back from the block, staring up at the creature as it took back to the sky. The sheer size and power of it was an even bigger horror than the thought of the execution. A thing from myth and legend suddenly soaring above me, breathing fire.

The town around me was in chaos. Propping myself up on my elbows, I watched the soldiers draw their weapons and forget their prisoners in favor of this new enemy. The horses were free from the carriages and running through the pandemonium. Families were shouting as their houses caught aflame and they rushed to find a safe way out of this nightmare we had found ourselves dropped in.

A pile of rock and flame crashed next to me, grazing my shoulder and letting me feel the heat of the flame. I let out an involuntary yell, rolling away and onto my hands and knees. The whole world around me seemed to be burning or crashing and I looked around, desperate to spot a way out. There were soldiers from both sides running, but I didn't dare follow. One side were rebels and even being near them had almost gotten me killed. The others were the ones willing to execute me for something I had nothing to do with. Getting help from any of them didn't seem too favorable to me.

I shook my curls out my face and forced myself to focus. I had gotten myself this far and I would get myself further. I wasn't sure how- I didn't trust my wounded leg to be strong enough for me to run and my hands were still bound. But I knew deep within me that I was not going to die here. Not from a soldier attack in the woods, not from an ax at the block and not from a dragon as dark as the night sky. Something had brought me here to Skyrim and it wasn't death.

Scrambling forward I spotted the carriages that had brought us here. One lay shattered in pieces, another had flipped over and I aimed for that one. The ground was hot to the touch and I scraped up my knees as I crawled, having to use my forearms instead of my hands to move forward. I could hear the dragon roaring behind me, hear the beating of its wings as I ducked under the carriage for my makeshift shelter.

In the shadows I caught my breath.

"Think Ma'hlia, think," I scolded myself as I worked to free myself of my bindings. I was useless if I didn't have my hands. Resorting to my teeth, I bit and ripped at the rope until I could taste blood from my lips and gums. I had worked through some of it, but still not enough to get free and time was not on my side. "Shit!"

Another blast struck, too close for comfort and the carriage rocked. I huddled with my arms over my head, continuing to swear steadily until I was brave enough to uncurl myself. Flames licked the far wheel of the cart, narrowing my time even more. The air was thick with smoke and I choked back a cough. There was only one way to get free quickly enough, but it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Sending up a quick prayer that I wasn't making my own demise, I shuffled forward and thrust my wrists towards the flame.

The rope was cheap and flammable and caught quickly. I moaned through gritted teeth as I felt my skin blistering and burning alongside the rope and hot tears spilled down my cheeks. It hurt like unlike anything I'd experienced, willingly keeping my hands in the flames and I let out a guttural scream right as I felt the rope burn enough to snap.

I snatched my hands back to my chest, my dark skin was raw and blistered and I whimpered as I summoned up what little magic I could. My palms tingled, a more pleasant warmth than the fire and some of the pain receded around my wrists and some of the redness faded slightly. I pressed my hands to the wound on my leg while I still had strength to try to channel as much energy as I could. The throbbing lessened and I let out a sigh of relief. It would still needed stitched or a more experienced healer, but at least the pain was at a level that I could manage to stand and hopefully run.

Tentatively, I stuck my head out from the carriage before I made my way out, forcing myself off my hands and knees to my feet. My wounded leg still gave a twinge, but until the spell wore off it was no worse than a sprained ankle. I took a few steps to test it out and a small jump. I managed to stay standing and I made my way scrambling over the rocks and debris that were scattered now that the dragon had knocked down at least one of the tall stone towers.

The stone was hot under my hands, the flames burning out of control across the town now. There were less people about and more corpses, burned and black so they were beyond recognition. My stomach lurched and I forced myself to look away. I'd send up a prayer for their souls as soon as I was out of this wreck of a town. The dragon seemed to be focusing on the other side of the town- I could see arrows flying up from where I assumed the soldiers must have been trying to take the dragon down. I didn't know how much of an effect it would have though, as I watched the creature snatch a soldier in it's jaw. Even from where I was crouched I could hear him screaming, the dragon flying higher and higher then shaking his head and sending the soldier soaring beyond the town and towards the mountain. There was no way he could survive that.

I let out a small sob, trying to make myself seem as small and hard to see as possible.

It was hard going, crawling my way out of there. Every so often the dragon would circle back down, swooping down close to the ground so I had to press down into the hot ground or into a burning doorway. Everything was crumbling down and totally unrecognizable from the well ordered little town I had first rolled into. But one upside at least was that one of the far walls was half collapsed and I desperately made my way to it.

The pain was starting to kick back in as I finally reached it, staring up at the sky for any sign of the dragon. It was high above the town now, almost mistakable for the silhouette of a bird. The sky was clearing apart from the smoke from the fires and I managed to clamber awkwardly over the collapsed ruins of the wall. I was halfway over when my bad leg gave out and I let out a yell before I hit the ground on the other side of the wall. The breath was knocked out of me with a gasp as I found myself knocked on my back for the second time in a few hours.

Staring flat on my back, I could stare up at the smoke filled sky and watch the dragon soar further and further away. Out of immediate danger I could start to feel all the pain creeping back in. I managed to use the last dregs of my magic to take the edge off, but I knew without rest or a potion this was going to be as good as it got. With the dragon finally out of sight, I forced myself to my knees and then to my feet.

I was officially across the border. I had survived the soldiers and a dragon the size of a house. I had absolutely no idea what to do next.


End file.
